Flower and Snake caught in a Single Loop of Memory

 

Some moments just get etched in your memory. Their empowering aesthetics or intimidating impulses can still tickle the senses even a decade later. Such moments define life, make it momentous. These moments stand as the real milestones notifying the flow of invisible, unstoppable stream of time. Such moments stand out in two ways: a) raising your hair, jolting your senses and giving scary goosebumps; b) massaging your aesthetic senses in a way that you retain the touch almost throughout life. I can recall two such moments.

The first one occurred a decade back at the start of winters in Delhi. As the metro's first ladies-only coach eased its beautiful burden, I found myself walking down the stairs among a fragrant swarm of few dozen beautiful young ladies. Colorful woolens…Deo and perfume...grace and beauty. Smiling, chirpy flowers in the garden of life swaying to the teasing pulls of youth and exuberance. I felt like in a perfumery and walked sheepishly like a guilty black-bee in a garden.

It was really overpowering in a mysterious swathe of truth, beauty and love. I can still smell and see those moments as vividly as it happened a decade ago. Some moments just refuse to fade from your heart’s horizon. It somehow stands out as a memento of love, beauty, grace and freedom. The girls walking so confidently, carried by the morning verve taking them to their colleges and offices, the air redolent with empowerment, and those self-standing women on the path of carving their own destiny.

The second one still sees me swathed with swirling emotions of scared ecstasy, awe, plain fear and genuine appreciation, all at the same time: a real cocktail of emotions and feelings. Flashing the ultimate message that nature is neutral and has all the possibilities for our version of reality, truth and feelings. In a way, it means that it’s your cosmos, my cosmos, as much as anyone’s cosmos.

The moment stands erect almost a decade back on the highway of time. I saw two snakes mating. Not on TV guys but in real life in the cooing calls of the countryside solitude. Surrendered to slithery, coiled and hissing passion, their venomous stalking turned to submission. The kiss of death morphed into the kiss of love. Their fangs and poison took a backseat. Horrified initially, my shaken self felt the coiled fluidity of those two slithery bodies forming love loops. Shocking majesty! Ecstatic creeping! Those vivid images still crawl in my mind as if it’s happening now itself.

Well, everything is equally good, bad, neutral, passive and impassive to nature in isolation. Then we arrive on the scene and define the picture as per our knowledge, emotions, motivation and convenience.

On a parting note out of this memory, I can say with personal experience that love defines the empty canvas on which we paint our version of truth. The colors of love are the same for everyone. Just that we draw various panoramas with our individual perception.